5 Moments Jack Spicer was Himself
by Angel Reid . Tobias Dominik
Summary: Five moments in time where Jack Spicer was himself. slash


Title: Five Moments Jack Spicer was himself

Fandom: Xiaolin Showdown

Summary: Five moments...oh, come on. Like you need a summary

1.

"Jack, what's that?" Wuya's shrill voice floated from the ceiling as she drifted through, and Jack scurried to cover the book in his lap, eying the transparent spirit warily as the witch tried to fly close to him. "Does it involve world domination plans? Or are you wasting your time again, doodling some stupid design for another useless robot that won't work?" Jack rolled his eyes, closing the book and standing up as the purple entity hovered near him. He tucked the book under his arm, stretching as he began to gather his other belongings from the table to bring up to his room. Some where's above him, in the maze of halls and rooms that made up the upper floors of his home, the sounds of a dinner party could be heard; his father having returned from an expedition the previous morning. He hadn't felt like making an appearance, wasn't in the mood for another night of 'show of the boy genius'. He didn't feel like acting like the trophy son he was suppose to be; didn't feel like playing pretend that they were all one big happy family, because they weren't.

"Just some notes. I was doing homework before you showed up. How was your trip to Chase's? Any new ideas for the regaining of your body?" the books were piled on the desk, and he watched as Wuya went to wander the lab. She and Chase had been working on a way to make her body 'whole'; spending days holed up in Chase's 'castle' to try and find the proper way. Jack hadn't questioned; using the time to himself to work on projects, school work, and to work on his training.

"Fine. Good. We think we might have found a clue that will lead us to a book and...are you paying attention? Jack, what are you doing?" Jack glanced up from the text books he'd pulled from his desk, raising an eyebrow as Wuya moved to look at the books he'd opened. "Advanced astro physics? Neurobiology? What's that?" Jack closed the books, then moved to head upstairs.

"Studies. Why don't you go back to Chase, Wuya, and tell me if you find anything." Wuya watched, slack jawed, as the gothic teen left up the stairs, closing the basement door behind him,

2.

"What the hell are you doing, Spicer?"

"Jack Spicer, what are you plotting?"

"What in tarnation?"

"Ewww. it's near the temple."

Jack looked up, blinking in the bright sun as he marked his place in his book with his finger. The monks stood around him, cornering him to the tree he had been sitting against and reminding him of middle school all over again. He stared at them, watching silently as Raimundo moved to grab his book from him. He remained seated as the Brazilian looked at the book, gving him an odd look as he tossed the book back at him.

"Warlord? What, you can't read books at your own place, Spicer?" Raimundo sneered as he nudged jack's leg with his foot, and Jack raised an eyebrow at him. Picking the book back up, he flicked to the page he had been on,

"No. Chase is meditating. No one's allowed in the castle until he's done, and Wuya went...somewhere's. I didn't ask, she didn't tell. Besides, I'm not on your property. You can't legally kick me off. And I'm not doing anything to you. i'm reading. Unless reading insults you somehow, I can hardly see a reason for the four of you to be over here harassing me." Kimiko glared, and Omi poked the book in the older teens hand.

"Why do you not return to your own home, Jack Spicer? We know you have one. You could read inside of it." Jack shook his head, standing up. It was obvious that he wasn't going to be left in peace; the monks warped sense of justice not allowing them to leave him alone when he could potentially cause trouble.

"I'd rather not, thank you. I can see that my plan to attempt a normal seeming day has been futile. Shall I leave before the four of you regain your power trip and attempt to use force?" Clay blinked as Kimiko gaped, and as Jack began to walk away, Raimundo couldn't help but cover his mouth to hide the smile.

"But just so you know, I'm not conceeding to your delusion of grandor. I have every right to sit under a tree in public property and read."

3.

The tree fort had been in place for ages; it's wood well worn and painted a cherry almond color in an attempt at seven year old class. When he had built it, with the aid of his robots, he had hidden away all of his secrets under the sturdy roof, written his soul into the floor boards and poured his dreams into the walls. It was his house of thought, his own fortress of solitude to go to when it all just became too much to deal with and he needed to get away.

It was all, actually, very metaphorical and a bit over done, now that he looked back on it.

Now, the tree fort was a little too small for him. Ten years had brought with it many changes; the now seventeen year old was much taller; though not much larger other wise. He had out grown the small room, barely being able to fit inside the small wooden room without ducking, his five foot ten frame not meant for a room made by a four foot three seven year old. The walls held photos, drawings and designs, all with the messy scrawl of 'Jack, age seven' in bright blue crayon. An old chair, once thought to be too old and torn apart to be suitable for the Spicer home, sat in the corner, a makeshift table in the center of the floor, a tenth grade biology book covered in a thin layer of dust on it from ten years of laying on the plywood and cinder block table. An old blanket covered the floor, it's edges frayed from many nights of pacing. He had spent many a night in that fort,seeking solace from his home life and the problems he had at school.

Now, though, the small wooden structure was barely holding up; it was hardly safe to enter the tiny one room shack without risk of it falling in on itself. Jack stood crouched in the doorway, well aware that both Wuya and Chase were crowded at the base of the tree, looking up at him curiously. He turned a circle, looking around the room at the pictures pinned to the wall. Photo's of a beautiful woman holding a small, pale boy scattered the walls, pictures much too dark to have been drawn by a sevn year old pinned in a straight line, covering one half of the small room's walls. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he reached into the pocket of his heavy coat. his fingers caressed the match book, pulling it out as he picked up an old picture from the table. Bright eyes and a perfect smile looked up at him, and he bit his lip, taking the matches and lighting one up. He looked around, then brought the match to the photo, watching it as the flames curled and licked the image before dropping it onto a pile of dry, brittle notes. Waiting a moment, he turned to leave as the pile caught fire. Climbing down the makeshift ladder, he moved to stand with Wuya and Chase as the first visible flames crawled out the window.

"You can't just burn down your past, Jack." Wuya's voice cut through the night, even as Chase's hand dropped to his shoulder. Jack shook his head, and Chase let his hand slide to the boy's own. Jack didn't look up and for a moment didn't reply.

"Every night and every morn," the boy stated, hands in his pocket as he turned to leave, "Some to misery are born." They were silent as they left, the tree and the fort blazing behind them as they made their way to the car waiting for them.

4.

The showdown was over, and good had won.

Correction; the showdown was over, and the monks had won. Jack still wasn't convinced that they could be overall be called 'good'; Omi was naive, Clay was a was a power house, Raimundo was easiiy swayed, and Kiimiko was a conniving, arrogant bitch. He couldn't help being on the Heylin side; even if he wanted to switch, the monks had already proven they didn't want him He didn't really care; why put up with training and taking his 'duty' seriously when he could pretend to play the bad boy and work in his projects in relative peace?

He didn't even mind being constantly beat in show downs; although once in awhile, he wished they'd at least check to see if he was okay. At the moment, he was sitting on the cold ground, the monks a few feet away, celebrating their victory as the gothic boy attempted to snap his dislocated shoulder back into place. It wasn't a complicated procedure; he had done it many times before, even before the monks and Wuya had come along. His shoulder was already swelling; and as he brought his arm back sharply, he let out a half whimper, biting his lip hard. It was okay; he didn't need their help. He was a big boy, he didn't need anyone, he was self sufficant, damnit. Just because he was bleeding and battered didn't mean he was broken. He was above this; above the monks, above Wuya, above even Chase. He didn't need to even be a part of this; he was a genius. He could be building things for the government, but instead he was letting a bunch of sixteen year olds (and really, two of them were sixteen; Kimiko was still fifteen and omi was only thirteen.) kick his ass.

"Don't mind me, guys," he muttered. making a sling out of what was left of his shirt, "I'll just fix myself up and be on my way. No, no, it's okay, Wuya, I'll live. What's that? Of course I'm bleeding, that's what happens when you break your ankle that...bad...oh god, is that a bone?" His eyes focused on the ankle, ignoring when Raimundo glanced over at last, noticing the older boy.

"Hey, Spicer, are you...alright?" the Brazilian began to make his way over, and Jack shook his head, clutching at his ankle.

"No, and no thanks to you, monk. If you're not going to help, go back to your friends. Wouldn't want them to get the wrong idea." Raimundo's eyes were wide as Jack struggled to stand up, pushing away the guiding arm Raimundo offered.

"I don't need your pity help, and I don't need you. I can take care of myself."

5.

"Here. Drink." Jack pushed the cup into Raimundo's hands, his breath clouding as he glanced around the feild as the other boy accepted the drink with no question. It was cold out, mid september and the two boys were killing time during lunch at the high school. Jack was in his final year; Raimundo finally being allowed to go to public school as his duty's as a Xiaolin Monk came to a stand still. The two boys had, in the beginning, subconsciously stuck together, Jack use to schools and being picked on, and Raimundo allotting that no one was allowed to beat up on Spicer besides him. Raimundo had been quick to popularity, attractive and athletic, he was the most popular junior around. Jack had refused to awknowledge the Brazilian at first; but as the weeks rolled by, the two began a sort of awkward friendship that slowly began to turn into something different.

"Are you coming to the dance tonight?" Raimundo's question caught Jack off guard; and as the other teen glanced at his companion the gothic boy looked off across the grass, thinking his answer out.

"I hadn't been planning on it, no. No one's asked me, anyways, so why bother?" Rai chuckled at that, wrapping his scarf tighter as he took a sip of the steaming styrofoam cup. hot apple cider hit his tongue and he grinned; knowing full well that Jack preferred a cup of creamy hot chocolate over cider any day.

"Well you could go with me." Jack turned to look at Raimundo, who was still sipping the cider casually. He stuttered a moment, mouth gaping as he tried to talk, and Raimundo smiled, chuckling as he put down his cup and reached to wrap Jack's scarf tighter around his neck.

"With you? Like...a date?" Raimundo nodded, and Jack moved to look around. "this is a joke, right? You don't want to go to the dance with me. I'm evil. I'm a loser. You're so popular and you could go with anyone you want. And I cant dance. Not like...not like they all dance." His cheeks reddened, and Raimundo grinned, moving to sand up. he offered his hand to Jack, who gave him an odd look.

"Any one can dance, Jack. I bet even you can." Jack made a face, but gingerly took the hand and stood up as well. Raimundo gave him a little spin, and Jack closed his eyes, listening as Raimundo started to hum an unfamiliar tune. after a moment, the humming turned into the words of a portuguese song that Jack certainly didn't know. He let Raimundo move him, then felt the Brazilian move away, letting him dance on his own as he tapped out the beat on the table. He let his body move to the sound, dancing in the way he remembered his mother dance, moving and flowing with a grace Raimundo had only ever seen him have on the ice. After a few minutes, Raimundo broke off the singing, and Jack swayed to a halt, opening his eyes as he blushed in embarrassment .

"Sorry...uh, I got a little carried away there." He looked away, and Raimundo moved to wrap an arm around the pale teens shoulders.

"You dance so gracefully, man. Like a...like a gypsy or something. Now you can't say no. I need to go to the dance with the best dancer, show everyone up." Jack let out a laugh, shaking his head as he leant against Raimundo, soaking in his warmth.

"Well, howc an I argue that. Of course I'll go."


End file.
